Phantom Twins
by ilovepuppies125
Summary: Danny and Sam's kids, Lizzie and Grayson, are now in high school and have to deal with their own problems such as teachers, homework, friends, and crushes, while still managing to maintain their secrets. All the while, an old enemy waits in the shadows for his opportunity to strike.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everybody! Here is the sequel to the sequel of the trilogy! If you are not familiar with the first two stories, the first one is called "Baby Steps", and the second one is called "Growing Up Phantoms," you do not have to read either of the first two to read this story, but it is highly recommended. Anyway, enjoy!**

Phantom Twins

Chapter 1:

Lizzie POV-

"I'm gonna kill your mommy and daddy," the voice rang out, crystal clear. I could smell the bitter-sweet and strongly overpowering stench of the cologne that came off of his clothes. His skin was a sickly blue color, that, coupled with the devil pointed hair and goatee combo and the caped costume, he looked like a vampire out of a 1980's film.

But he wasn't

He was a ghost.

I felt helpless, I wanted to run, I wanted to escape, I wanted to see my parents and my brother, but I couldn't, all I could see was his evil face looming over me, chuckling darkly to himself. Then, in a puff of light and smoke, he was gone.

The world around me was blurry, but I was on my back, and I was contained. Above me, an eerie green glow illuminated the room. I knew my brother was nearby, but I couldn't see him.

Then there was singing.

"Rock a-bye baby, on the tree top. When the wind blow, the cradle will rock," I couldn't see the singer, but the voice was familiar, but also extremely distorted and robotic.

"When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And down will come baby, cradle and all," the voice continued to chant the same repetitive lullaby omen.

Then, suddenly, the voice was gone, and my mom was there.

"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay. Mommy's here," she told me, taking me into her arms. I wanted to tell her what the ghost had said. I wanted to warn her, but the words wouldn't come.

Then my brother was there too.

Suddenly, there was a loud screeching of an alarm that resounded all around us.

Then the scene changed, now my whole family was there, and so was the blue ghost. He fired at my mom, brother and I, but my dad blocked it. Now I was in my aunt's arms.

Then suddenly, Grayson and I were in the air, hoisted high above our family, being dangled by the blue ghost.

There was an explosion, and we fell.

My dad caught me in his arms, but I was once again knocked to the floor.

I couldn't move.

The ground shook and chunks of debris cascaded around me, each consecutive explosion moving closer and closer to me. But I could see my dad, he was coming for me.

He was too late, ten feet away, another explosion ripped through the house. I felt the burning sting of shrapnel over my skin. I felt my own blood begin to emerge out of my pierced skin.

…

I woke with a start, a cold sweat beading on my forehead.

Even though I've had that same dream, that same _memory, _dozens of times, it still always takes me a few minutes to realize that I was no longer in the clutches of a deranged psychopath, and I did not just get blown up.

I touched the line on my forehead; the keloid scar tissue was slightly lighter colored and smoother than the rest of my skin, in an unnatural way that felt somewhat like Saran Wrap.

He had caused that, well, the explosion had caused it.

"_I'm gonna kill your mommy and daddy. I'm gonna kill your mommy and daddy," _the voice repeated in my thoughts. I shook my head, desperately trying to make it go away.

In my younger years, I would have run to my parent's room and curled up with them. But, at fifteen, that was no longer socially acceptable behavior. So, instead, I felt around for my oldest stuffed animal, Lulu.

Her once silky white and black fur was now matted and yellowed, and one of her eyes had fallen off and had been reattached about ten times, but I refused to get rid of her.

After I had established that my stuffed cat was, indeed where she was supposed to be, I gave a quick hug to the plush animal, before setting her back down on my dresser and lying back in bed.

On the nightstand next to my bed, my heart-shaped ice necklace glowed faintly. It was something that my dad had made for me when I was a little girl. Yet another thing I was not willing to part with.

I wore it every day. It was kind of my good luck charm.

I took a deep breath, having one more look around my room with my enhanced night-vision, making sure no blue-colored psychopaths lingered in the darkened corners, before falling back asleep.

The next morning my alarm sounded.

The first day of sophomore year.

I pulled on the clothes I had laid out one week prior: white skinny jeans and a sea foam green button-up shirt, and adjusted my long black hair with a thin headband, before going downstairs for breakfast. And by "going downstairs" I mean phasing through the floor into the kitchen.

My mom rolled her eyes as I floated down.

"What have I told you about using your powers at breakfast?" she asked.

'_Not to,' _I answered mentally, giving her a sheepish smile. I'm sure she has told me not to abuse my powers at least…two hundred times, but I never listen.

Grayson came down the stairs a few minutes later and by came down the stairs I mean he _actually _used the _freaking _stairs. I rolled my eyes; he is such a goody-goody around our parents.

But with one look at his face, he was suffering from the same lack of sleep as me.

I knew he would be.

We always, always, _always s_hare that same dream. Thank God that's the only dream we share. I mean, yeah, I am like annoyingly connected to my brother but I _do not _want to know the dreams of a fifteen year old guy, thank you very much!

It's bad enough that I can sometimes hear his thoughts.

Yeah, that's right. Sometimes thought pop into my head that are _definitely _not mine.

Of course, he complains about receiving my thoughts too, but at least my thoughts do not consist of _what _he wants to do to _my _best friend. Yeah, seriously disturbing.

And even though he's thinking that, neither he nor Missy will make a move no matter how freaking obvious it is that they are into each other.

There was a knock at the front door and Dani, our older cousin/second cousin/aunt/second clone (yeah, it's kind of ridiculous), phased in.

"Are you guys ready to go or what?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah," I agreed picking up a granola bar, "Coming."

"Bye mom," Grayson and I called back to her before picking up our backpacks and leaving out the front door.

Other than Missy, Dani is kind of my best friend. And she's the only girl who I can talk to about half-ghost issues, considering my parents refuse to let me tell Missy anything. I mean, I get what they mean, especially given the fact that Missy (and much of the rest of the city) is still under the impression that Phantom, _my dad, _is actually her dad. But still, it sucks that I always have to cancel plans, or leave randomly, or lie to her, and I can't even tell her why.

The three of us landed invisibly at school, using the back alley (which reeked so badly from the leftovers from the cafeteria, that were, for some reason, were untouched by raccoons…hmm, wonder why) to transform back to our human forms.

I glanced at my schedule. Eight periods of _ugh,_ starting with the _ugh_-iest class of all: Gym.

With that said, I begrudgingly started on my way to gym.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Lizzie POV-

Quite honestly, I do not see the point of gym. It's just a hypocritical high school establishment that allows coaches—coaches, who I might add, aren't exactly the epitome of health—to tell us to run laps around the track and to use the social caste system to single out the outcasts as dodge ball targets.

"Hey girlie," I heard a voice and looked up to see Missy coming towards me, "What's up?"

I swear, even with no makeup (much to her mother's dismay) and in her vintage t-shirt and cut-off jean shorts, she looks amazing. Seriously, in the ten years we have known each other I have never seen her look bad (except maybe one time…when she accidentally fell into the newly-composted flower bed). Sometimes, I'm actually a little jealous. Her bright blonde hair is wavy instead of pin-straight like my black hair, and she's always tan unlike me, who is always pale (of course there are reasons for that, but it's still annoying). But, then I remember that she is often jealous of me and Grayson with our "normal" family and loving parents, and even the fact that Grayson and I have each other (and Andy, of course), and I realize that, even if I can't walk out of a comic book store and look like I was walking down the runway, I still have things a lot better than she does, most of the time.

Missy isn't the same shy, socially-introverted girl she was when we first met in kindergarten, but I wouldn't say she is exactly the most socially-outgoing person either.

In fact, she might even be considered an outcast, or, more appropriately, a nerd.

Nobody outright picks on her (Grayson and I have made damn sure of that), but that doesn't stop the rumors from spreading behind her back.

Apparently, her mom had a rather…infamous reputation. And, all the guys expect her to be the same way, well, all the guys except for Grayson.

She handles it well at least. She doesn't let the rude comments from (jealous) girls, or the suggestive comments from guys upset her. In fact, she is way more likely to send someone to the nurse's office for saying something bad about her or her family than she is to go cry about it in the bathroom.

I've seen her do it too; some guy made a comment about how much of a slut her mom had been. She broke his nose.

And that is why she's my best friend.

"Gym," I grumbled in response.

"Yeah, me too," she sighed.

"I hate gym," I whined.

"Would you stop complaining, at least you can participate in gym without being the last person to finish the mile," she reminded me. Yeah, another thing about Missy, she's not exactly…athletic. I mean, I'm not athletic either, but she was right, I can, at least, finish the mile at about the same pace as the majority of the gym class.

My parents seem to believe that she got her lack of physical ability from her dad, her real dad, a nerd himself, named Jacob Eric.

"You weren't the last person…" I trailed off not exactly sounding convincing.

"Really?" she asked arching an eyebrow at me, "Peter Blaine finished before me." It was hard to argue with that, Peter Blaine was the most overweight guy in our class.

She seemed to take my silence as my resignation that she was right.

"And now my mom wants me to try out for cheerleading," she moaned pitifully.

"What?" I blinked at her. As mid-to-low members of the social food chain, Missy and I both had a strong dislike for the cheerleaders who paraded around the school like they owned it…which, to some extent, I guess they did.

"Yeah, fun, right?" she uttered sarcastically, curling her lip in distaste, "She was a cheerleader in high school and now she wants me to 'follow in her footsteps.' Why does she suddenly decide that now is a good time to actually become involved in my life?" Missy asked bitterly. I understood her bitterness, I couldn't empathize, but I did understand it. Since we first met, Missy's mom has been more of an invisible presence than my family, and we're all half ghost. Seriously, even though I've slept over at her…cough…mansion…cough…at least forty times, I have seen her mom, seen not talked to, maybe ten times. I have only talked to her maybe twice. I think her mom must have deemed talking to me a waste of her time when I told her who my parents were the second time I slept over at Missy's house. The only other time I talked to her was when she was bringing Missy (against her will, I might add) to the salon with her, and Missy would only agree to go if she could bring me with her. So yes, I was roped into a salon day with my best friend and a woman who wouldn't talk to me (which also, clearly, annoyed my mom).

My mom was the complete opposite. The first time Missy came over, even knowing her parentage, even knowing the brainwashed lies her mother had told her since birth, my mom merely accepted her as a presence in our house, becoming more like a mom to Missy than Paulina ever was.

"Are you going to do it?" I asked her.

"No way," she shook her head, "With all the rumors about me already, can you imagine how bad it would be if I had to wear a mini skirt and pompoms and associate with the slut patrol. No thanks. Plus, I would probably end up killing myself."

Both of those were true. With the guys already seeing her down-played style as something to be desired, why would she want to add mini-skirts as fuel to the fire? Plus, cheerleading did require a kind of physical endurance that Missy just didn't have.

During Gym we had an encounter with the head cheerleader/slut herself: Marcelle Williams.

She was picked as team captain for dodge ball.

"Fenton, you're team captain," the coach called. I was a little surprised, but I took my place on the baseline next to, but as far away as I could possibly get, from Marcelle.

Of course I picked my best friend first, which was a nice change of pace, she's usually last or second to last (that is, unless some guy is trying to get her attention by picking her). Also, unfortunately for her, I am not usually last, so she has to wait, alone, until the end, until she is chosen by a reluctant captain. But don't get me wrong, I am never within the first ten people picked, but I am usually within the first fifteen (I am actually pretty good at dodge ball as a result of training and sparring with my dad, brother, mom, and aunt). Unlike my brother, who, being the soccer star that he is, is often picked within the first three (well, that and girls think he's hot. Ugh, gag).

Missy rolled her eyes, joining me.

"You didn't have to pick me first, you know," she whispered, "You could have at least chosen someone who would help you win."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that 'winning isn't everything?'" I asked her playfully.

"Yeah, then she said 'it's the only thing,'" Missy replied. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she meant her mom.

I pegged the three biggest players of the opposite team (football players) within the first minute and a half. But none of them acknowledged that they had been hit and continued to play, and, of course, the coach said nothing. Missy was also out in the first minute and a half.

Halfway through the game, when there were only three people left on my team compared to the nine left on the other team (even though I had hit most of them. You see, this is why I hate gym. It's bad enough that teachers play favorites in class, but coaches should not be able to do the same, or at least they shouldn't make it so obvious that they are doing so).

With a little more force than necessary (yes, I tapped my paranormal strength, sue me), I landed a direct blow of the foam ball in Marcelle's gut, making her fall backwards, landing on her butt.

If her defeat had not been obvious, I was positive that the coach would not have called her out.

Still, despite this, my team was finished less than a minute later and the coach blew the whistle, telling us to go get changed.

"Way to beat Marcelle," Missy grinned at me as we got changed, "How did you do that?"

"What do you mean?" I questioned, knowing exactly what she meant.

"How did you hit her so hard?" Missy wondered.

"Oh," I pretended to think about it for a second, "Dunno, adrenaline maybe? I didn't think I actually hit her that hard, I was surprised when she fell down," I lied. I'd gotten pretty good at feigning ignorance around most people since I had first gotten my powers, but that was most people. Being my best friend of ten years, Missy knew I was lying, I could tell by the look on her face as she pursed her lips looking away from me and focusing her attention on her postage-stamp-sized locker.

I sighed internally. She was mad, and, I guess, she had every right to be, I mean, here I am, supposed to be her best friend, and I'm lying to her. It made me feel like a terrible friend even though I had no other choice.

She had never said anything about it, probably expecting me to tell her eventually, but I could tell how upset and frustrated it made her since she had started noticing my BS excuses and random disappearances about eight years ago.

"Where to next?" she asked me, the anger suddenly gone from her face (well, it would seem gone to anyone who _hasn't _known her for ten years. She had put on a happy face to make the hurt).

"Study hall," I informed her.

"Ooh good, me too. Let's go," she said, walking ahead of me out of the locker room, a clear sign that she was still upset and didn't want to look me in the eye.

I sighed, out loud this time, the life of a half-ghost teenager is hard.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Lizzie POV-

"Ugh!" I groaned throwing my backpack on the counter after a long day at school. Cujo, our dog (though really, he's _my _dog. He sleeps in _my _bed), who also happens to be a ghost and eternally remains as a puppy (unless he's angry) yipped at my heels playfully.

"Long day?" my dad asked, arching an eyebrow at me from where he sat in one of the barstools.

I nodded, sighing deeply and sitting down next to him. Cujo continued to paw at my legs and finally I relented, scooping up his rambunctious green form into my arms, and scratching the space between his ears.

My dad looked around mischievously for a second then he lowered his voice, "Don't tell your mom I told you, but she made cookies. They're in the Christmas tin in the pantry."

I smiled, and, still with Cujo in one arm, I walked into the pantry and pulled out two cookies: chocolate chip, my favorite. I passed one of the cookies to my dad taking a bite of the one in my hand.

"Where's Grayson?" my dad asked.

"Soccer tryouts," I answered. It was the first day of the school year, and, even though everybody knew my brother was one of the best players on the team, he still had to try out, just like everybody else.

"So, what happened at school today?" he asked me trying to get me to explain my somewhat sour mood when I had phased through the door and brushing the cookie crumbs into the sink.

"I lost at dodge ball, even though I should have won," I told him. He frowned, probably remembering the favoritism of the teachers and coaches from when he went to Amity Park High.

"Football players?" he guessed.

"Bingo," I agreed, "But I totally knocked one of the cheerleaders to the floor with a ball! It was awesome!" I told him.

"Did you use your powers?" he arched an eyebrow, already knowing the answer to that question…let's just say, self-control isn't exactly my strong suit.

"…maybe a little," I admitted sheepishly.

"That's my girl," he grinned. Even though my dad didn't _like _me using my powers when they could be noticed, he had told me several stories about how he sometimes used to use his own powers against the social elite.

"Yeah but then Missy was all 'how did you do that?' and I was like 'I don't know,' and well…she doesn't believe me," I sighed. He nodded, realizing that this was the underlying reason behind my mood.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know it's hard. What did she say?" he sighed.

"Nothing. She never _says _anything, but I can tell from the look on her face. Can't I _please _just tell her?" I pleaded.

My dad shook his head, "Sorry, honey. But you know why we can't let you do that."

Of course I knew, Grayson and I both did. It was more than the fact that a shocking realization could harm my best friend's psychological status, but also, we all knew what was at stake. Never mind the fact that we wouldn't be able to walk out of the house without being mobbed if the secret got out, but the announcement might draw the attention of an enemy who has been lying low for fifteen years. Biding his time until he comes back. These fears had been engrained in our minds since our first day of kindergarten when we discovered out parentage, our powers, and the fact that our most terrifying nightmare had once been a reality.

'_Hmm, today is Andy's first day of kindergarten…' _I thought. I looked at my dad, and judging by the look on his face, he knew it too. My parents had insisted on keeping our younger brother in the dark until his first day of kindergarten for one thing, because that's how long we had to wait, and for another, because before the age of five it would be difficult to actually control his powers but that doesn't mean he wouldn't have _tried _to do so if he had known. I can imagine the headlines now:

"Local boy jumps off roof, claiming the ability to fly."

"Hey sissy!" I heard a voice behind me; it was the little pain in the butt himself.

"Hey Andy," I ruffled the black hair on the top of his head, "How was your first day of school?"

"It was great! We got to color and play games and play on the playground and ooh I made some friends!" he bounced happily on his toes. Like all the other males in my immediate family, he was a carbon copy of my dad, with one exception his eyes, which were entirely my mom's. Other than that, he looked identical to Grayson who looked identical to our dad, eyes included. It seems I was the only one who seemed to vary the gene pool a little, because, the way that I thought about it, I looked 70% like my mom and 30% like my dad, enough to show that I was a mixture of the two of them, but not so much that I looked like my dad and brothers. My eyes were also the only ones like them in my family, periwinkle, a combination of my mom's violet colored eyes and my dad's ice blue ones.

Andy's purple eyes twinkled in delight.

I smirked to myself, if he thought _school w_as great he's going to ecstatic when we take him up to the roof and tell him the truth. And he will be excited, Danny Phantom is his hero, a fact that my dad relishes in _maybe _a little too much.

A tickling sensation in my temple let me know that my brother was near, and, sure enough, he phased through the door not a second later.

"Did you make the team?" my dad asked.

"Yep!" he grinned happily. Then he looked to our younger brother. The thoughtful look on my twin brother's face let me know that, he too, was thinking about Andy's first training session.

"You guys ready to go?" my mom asked, walking out of her bedroom. She looked to Grayson, "How were the soccer tryouts?"

Grayson shrugged, "Fine."

My mom rolled her eyes. I was the talkative one in this family compared to Grayson, whose responses (if there were any at all) usually consisted of one-word answers. I watched her eyes travel to a spot on the counter, a spot we must have missed when we swept the crumbs into the sink, cast an accusatory glance at my dad and me. I smiled sheepishly back at her.

My dad simply smirked, putting his arm around her waist, "Yeah, we're ready to go. Are you?"

My mom nodded, pushing one of my stubbornly annoying fly-away hairs behind my ear.

"Where are we going?" Andy piped up cocking his head to the side in curiosity, looking between our parents.

The four of us shared a knowing look.

"You'll see."


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, I am such an idiot. I meant to give credit to the designer of the awesome cover of this story in the last chapter, but I totally forgot, sorry Gracie. Anyway, just so everyone knows, the designer is The-Amazing-Gracie, and I think it turned out great. *Round of applause* Thanks again Gracie for doing that for me. And if anyone wants to express their comments about the cover, I will be sure to pass them on. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**...**

Chapter 4:

Lizzie POV-

"What are we doing up here?" Andy asked, testing his boundaries a little by inching closer to the side to peer over the street below. My mom tensed with each step he took closer to the edge. She may not worry about Grayson and me falling off anymore, but, until Andy had mastered flying, she would be worried about him.

We were on top of the same roof where our parents had first told Grayson and me that we were the children of _the _Danny Phantom and that we shared his powers.

This time, however, my dad did not challenge Andy to fall off of the roof.

Andy probably would, possibly by accident.

"Andy, did I ever tell you what happened to me when I was fourteen?" my dad asked him. The answer was no, but my dad had to broach the topic somehow.

Andy shook his head, intrigued.

"Well, your grandma and grandpa had just finished building the portal in the basement, but it didn't work?" my dad told him.

"Why not?" Andy asked, confused.

"Because grandma and grandpa had put the 'on' button in the wrong spot. But anyway, your mom told me to go into the empty portal," my dad explained.

Andy's eyes widened. For us kids, the portal and the Ghost Zone are "off limits," or, at least they're supposed to be. Our parents don't know that Grayson and I have taken a few excursions into the Ghost Zone.

"And when I was inside, I found the 'on button and accidentally pressed it," my dad continued. Once again, Andy was confused, not knowing what kind of result something like that would have.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I was electrocuted," my dad replied.

"El-ect-ro-cute-ed?" Andy tried the five syllable word on his tongue.

"Yep. I was zapped and then ectoplasm blended with my me," my dad said, "And I passed out."

"Did it hurt?" Andy wondered.

"A lot," my dad informed him, unintentionally cringing at the thought, "Anyway. When I woke up, I could do this…"

He stepped back, transforming into his ghost form. Over the past fifteen years, my dad had developed a few gray hairs near his ears, gray hairs that were now black in contrast to his white hair, other than that, he looked almost exactly the same as he did ten years ago, on this very same roof.

Andy's eyes nearly popped out of his head and his mouth formed an "O."

"You're Danny Phantom!" he exclaimed finally.

"That's right buddy," my dad smirked, enjoying Andy's response, "But there's something else too," he nodded to the rest of us who easily accepted our cue, transforming into our ghost forms.

Andy didn't even have the words to speak.

"You want to know what the best part is?" I leaned down putting my hands on my knees. Andy nodded, still unable to make words.

"You can do it too," I said in a whisper. I smirked a little to myself, remembering that when he had first learned to run, not walk, run, he ran through the house, like literally _through _the house.

"Really?!" Andy grinned, bouncing up and down.

"Okay buddy," my dad said, "First, put this on," my dad handed him a Hazmat suit. Wow, I never realized until this moment how many Hazmat suits our family actually goes through. Andy undressed down to his underwear and put on the suit. That boy has no shame, I swear. His suit was different than the usual suits, instead of being white with black, it was black with white, meaning, that when he did transform, he suit would be the exact opposite of our dad's.

"Next," my dad said, "You need to close your eyes," Andy obeyed, although I could see him peeking just a little bit. When he realized that I saw him, he quickly clamped his eyes shut again.

"Now Andy," my mom said, "All that power is stored, right here," she poked his chest and he giggled, "What you need to do is relax and focus on expanding that power over your whole body."

Andy nodded and I saw his shoulders relax. His eyebrows pulled together in concentration and in was only a matter of seconds, he had transformed, much faster than I thought he would. With his now white hair and green eyes, the guys in my family looked _exactly _alike, the exception being their costumes and age, obviously.

Andy opened his eyes and bounced around excitedly when he saw himself.

We trained on the roof for a few more hours, and Andy was able to learn nearly all of his powers fairly easily, and I say _nearly all, _because I'm leaving out the difficult ones such as duplication and the ghostly wail (I still haven't learned how to do the ghostly wail but my mom tells me I could almost do it as a baby). Andy even learned how to use his ice powers. Yep, another person in this family who has ice powers.

I don't. For some reason, I never have. I would say it was a guy thing, but Dani has them.

So maybe it's just a _me _thing. Well, a me and my mom thing.

But my mom doesn't care. I do. It just burns me that Grayson and now Andy can do something that I can't.

With summer having just ended, the sun was still up for extended periods of time, and, as we rounded out the training session, it had just begun to set.

My mom looked at her watch.

"Shoot!" she exclaimed, "We need to go, we're going to be late for dinner."

"Who are we going to dinner with?" I questioned, this was news to me, then again, nobody ever told me anything.

"Jazz's family, Tucker's family, and Dash's family," she informed me.

'_So, like literally most of the other people in my life,' _I thought.

"Alright," my dad agreed, "Let's go."

We flew there, of course, allowing the media to catch sight of the newest member of the Phantom gang. AJ Phantom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Now, in case you haven't noticed, a large majority of this story will be written in Lizzie's POV. Now, that's not saying I won't be writing in Grayson's POV or anyone else's because it is still a probability that I will end up writing from the POV of a total of five different characters throughout the duration of this story. But, considering that Lizzie is the more talkative one of the twins, and considering that she's a girl (making it easier for me to write for her) she will be the main perspective. Just wanted to let you guys know. Anyway, enjoy.**

Chapter 5:

Lizzie POV-

We were late, not too late, but late enough. The five of us invisibly touched down in the parking lot and my dad turned to Andy, kneeling down to his level.

"Andy, listen to me. You can't mention this to anyone, okay? It's a secret. The only people you can talk about it with are us, Grandma and Grandpa Fenton, your Aunt Dani, your Aunt Jazz and her family, Tucker and his family, and Dash. Only Dash, the rest of his family doesn't know, okay? So don't mention it at dinner," my dad informed my brother who took in the information with an eager nod.

"Okay then," my mom smiled, "Shall we?" I grinned and we followed her into the restaurant.

It wasn't hard to find the group; after all, the fourteen of us took up the entire back of the restaurant. The group consisted of the five of us, Tucker and his wife Valerie and their six year old daughter Ebony, Jazz, her husband Rob, and their seven year old son Matthew, and finally, there was Dash, his wife Claire, and their now-two-year-old son, Cooper.

Cooper is super cute (rotten, but cute), and I frequently have to babysit him. He has blonde hair like his dad, cut in the same short style, but he had green eyes like his mom (a sweet woman who is barely five feet tall and who has short auburn hair, fair skin, freckles and black-rimmed glasses). And right now, Cooper had ketchup on his face. Did I mention that he kind of has an obsession with ketchup? Yeah, it's probably not healthy; he eats it with everything, sometimes even by itself.

"Nice of you to join us," Valerie remarked, taking a sip of her coke. Only Coke, because she was seven and a half months pregnant with her and Tucker's second child: a girl, who they would be naming Janessa Ann Foley.

"Yeah sorry, we got a little busy and lost track of time," my dad half-lied. Most of the group, who I'm assuming already knew the cause of our tardiness, smiled knowingly casting a look at Andy who grinned widely at the attention.

"So Andy," Jazz grinned, "How was your first day of school?"

He glanced at my dad, like he wanted to know if he could answer or not, to which, my dad responded with a smile and a nod.

"Great!" Andy grinned cheerfully, showing all of his teeth including one of his top left teeth that he had lost the week before. That boy can sleep through anything, including a special visit from our dad. But the next morning, he was pleased to see that he had joined the ice-necklace club. And, just like Grayson, he got a DP necklace, making me the only one of us kids without one. It's cool though, because personally I like my heart necklace. It's different, and beautiful.

"What about you guys?" Jazz asked us.

Grayson and I shrugged. It's the first day of sophomore year, really, what is there to say? I can't complain about my teachers or homework yet, so other than gym and Missy, I'm not having any issues. And, at least one of those issues, I can't talk about here.

"Why don't you guys go sit at the end of the table," my mom suggested.

'_Really?_' I deadpanned, '_she's sending us to the kids table?_' My mom shot back an expression that clearly said, "Yes, she was."

Sighing, my brothers and I walked to the end of the table where Ebony and Matthew were sitting. Andy was excited, he loved hanging out with Matt and Ebony when he got the chance, but Grayson and I were slightly more apathetic.

"Hey guys," I greeted them, pulling out an empty chair. Ebony grinned widely at me. My parents say she looks up to me (for what reason, I don't know) but well, considering that I have known her since they day she was born, I guess it made sense. She had her curly hair in pigtails and her pink-rimmed glasses (which have always been a little too big for her face) teetered to one side of her face.

Matt merely nodded in our general direction before looking down again and tearing at a piece of bread on his plate.

It's already easy to tell that he is going to be moody and rebellious when he gets to be our age (which, my mom believes, is the result of his mom's constant shirking and the fact that his dad is often not around because he is solving crimes with the FBI). He looks like his mom, at least his face does and his hair, but other than that, he looks like his dad, brown eyes, tall (for his age), and one day I'm assuming he's going to be just as muscular.

Andy hadn't stopped smiling since we walked in and Matt and Ebony took notice.

"They told you, didn't they?" Matt guessed in a hushed tone with a quick look over to the adults to make sure he wasn't overheard. Luckily, the adults (Claire) were too engrossed in conversation to notice.

Andy grinned even wider, nodding.

"Man, I am happy to be the normal one in our family," Matt remarked. He says that, but I know he's a little jealous that he is the only kid in our family who is not a member of the superpower club.

Ebony shrugged, "I think it's cool!"

Don't tell her dad I said so (because Tucker will definitely flip), but I can definitely see a thing between Matt and Ebony in the future. So yeah, basically everyone has a relationship except for me.

'_Not that dad will let you have one anyway_,' I heard Grayson's annoyingly smug voice in my head.

'_Stay out of my head, asshole,' _I shot back, giving him a pointed look.

'_Well, you certainly were thinking loud enough,' _he remarked.

'_That doesn't mean you can eavesdrop on my thoughts!' _I deepened my glare.

"Can you guys stop with your weird twin thing? You've been having an invisible conversation for over a minute," Matt pointed out, snapping us out of thoughts.

"Sorry," we muttered in unison as the food arrived.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry people, I've been wanting to write but my mom's laptop busted so she's been using (stealing) mine, and then complaining about how touchy it is. Anywho, I'm back, and here's another chapter. Enjoy.**

Chapter 6:

Lizzie POV-

I plucked idly on my guitar, sitting on my bed. I had band practice after school (for the first time in a month) and I wanted to practice a little by myself.

My band consists of me (lead vocalist and guitarist), Logan (Dani's on-and-off boyfriend and our drummer), and Carter (bassist) who is Grayson's exceptionally quiet friend (seriously, quieter than Grayson. Who, except for the fact that he plays in Logan's garage, is painfully shy and socially introverted). Literally, in the two years we have been playing music together, Carter has said, maybe, twelve words to me; he barely even talks to Grayson. I tried flirting with him when we had first been introduced, but, I quickly realized it was a lost cause.

I had started getting guitar lessons in fifth grade, and now, I am the proud owner of two guitars: an acoustic one that I was playing now, and a light blue Stratocaster that was currently in its stand against the wall next to my amp. And, on the opposite wall, next to my desk, was my keyboard, which, I can also play.

Last year, our band, _Lead Wire, _was able to play at the homecoming dance, and I only hoped we would be able to do it again. This meant that there would be plenty of practice in my future.

There were two quick raps on my bedroom door and I looked up to see who was about to tell me to stop playing and go to bed.

"Hey Kiddo," my dad grinned walking in. I rolled my eyes, I have told him before that I am too old to be called "Kiddo" but he never listened, "Your mom says it's time for bed."

"I know," I sighed, gently setting my guitar down so that it leaned against my bed.

"Something wrong?" he asked me, sitting beside me. I smiled to myself, my dad knows me so well.

"Not really, other than the Missy thing," I told him.

He nodded, picking up my guitar. My dad's musical ability is exactly zero so I didn't know what he intended to do with it, but I didn't stop him.

"You sound really good," he changed to subject, "Are you guys going to play at the dance again this year?"

"I hope so," I grinned, "But I guess it depends on how much we practice."

He nodded again.

"Well, goodnight Lizzie," he told me, kissing the top of my head. "And actually _go t_o sleep. You'll have plenty of time to practice after school tomorrow. Oh, and don't worry about Missy, these things have a way of working themselves out."

"Okay, Dad. Goodnight," I replied as he walked out the door.

That was easy for him to say, about Missy, that is. _His _friends always knew, he never had to hide his secret from mom, or Tucker, or even Jazz after a while. Grayson and I _did. _Sure, we had the luxury of being able to talk about this to our family and family friends, but I could never tell my best friend s_ince kindergarten _the truth about me.

"Ugh!" I groaned, flopping back on my back, accidentally nudging my guitar, which attempted to fall to the floor. I caught it in time, and, instead of leaning it in the same place, I got up, setting it in its stand in the corner.

I got changed, slipping on my soft PJ's and going into the adjacent bathroom to brush my teeth. Up until freshman year, I had to share a bathroom with Grayson (I shudder just thinking about it), that is, until I begged to switch rooms with Andy. So now, the two boys are left sharing a bathroom, while I get my own.

"_You weren't exactly clean either," _Grayson remarked.

"_Oh my gosh! Go away!" _I mentally yelled at him.

Brothers! I swear!

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and pulled my hair into a loose pony tail, before going back to my room.

… … … … … … …

Grayson POV-

For the record, _Lizzie _is the one who always made the mess of the bathroom. She had like seven different bottles of everything that took up all the counter space, and she always left toothpaste in the sink. Now, Andy does that too, but let me just say, it is actually easier to share a bathroom with a five-year-old. At least he doesn't spend half an hour in front of the mirror, and, at least now I have counter space.

And, although she always plays the "woe-is-me I can't tell my best friend the truth" card, it's not only her who has these problems.

You don't think I would like to tell my friends every once in a while?

And, as much as Lizzie claims that there is something between Missy and I (which there isn't), it's not like I _could_ actually have a relationship with her (which I won't) without being able to tell her the truth. That would just make things even more complicated.

"_Stop thinking! I'm trying to sleep!" _Lizzie mentally scolded me, as if that's not the most hypocritical thing she has ever thought. Seriously, usually it's her keeping _me _up. She'll be thinking things like "OMG I like wonder if Randy like likes me, totally."

"_Shut up Grayson! I don't sound like that!" _she thought.

"_Ugh, I like totally don't sound like that! Whatever!" _I mocked back.

"_Grayson, you better shut it or I'm going to come in there and kick your ass!" _she threatened. I rolled my eyes.

"_Ooh, now I'm scared. Bring it on, sis," _I challenged, changing into my ghost form. One similarity between my sister and I is that we never back down from a challenge. Not ten seconds later, her ghost form phased through the wall, barreling into me, and knocking me to the floor.

And, not ten seconds later, our parents were there, ready to break it up.

Our mom crossed her arms, glaring at us.

"What have I told you about fighting in the house?" she asked, then gestured to the new scorch mark on my bedroom wall.

"She did it," I pointed at my sister.

"Liar!" Lizzie hissed, lunging for me again before my dad caught her by the collar of her Hazmat suit.

"I don't care _who _did it. You both know better. And your brother is seeping right next door, you're lucky you didn't wake him up. Now both of you go to bed and do not make us come up here again," she warned, crossing her arms and looking at both of us, daring us to argue. When I said that my sister and I don't back down from a challenge, that does not include our mom.

"Yes ma'am," we muttered in unison.

"Good," she nodded. Then she, giving us a hug, "Love you both. Sleep well."

"Love you too," we called back, before they both phased out of the room.

My sister glared at me, before phasing out of my room and going back to hers.

'_It must be nice living in a _normal _family,' _I mused, sighing as I laid in bed, '_though, it can't be nearly as entertaining.' _


	7. Chapter 7

**Ugh, college applications and school shopping and school reading (that I probably should have been doing earlier in the summer), and a lack of inspiration, is the combined reason for my absence this time. Sorry about that. Here's a new chapter, enjoy.**

Chapter 7:

Lizzie POV-

"Hey," I greeted Missy at school the next morning.

"Hey," she replied, back to her usual chipper self.

"I've got band practice tonight, are you coming?" I wondered.

"Of course, you know I never miss a practice," she smiled, "Are you guys going to play at the dance this year?"

"I hope so, but we don't know yet," I replied as we walked into the locker room together.

Marcelle passed by, her nose in the air, followed by the other cheerleaders and the exceptionally self-conscious girls who thought that catering to Marcelle's every whim would actually make them popular.

I rolled my eyes, opening my locker.

There are times I want so badly to kick the crud out of Marcelle. I won't, but I want to.

"So, I was thinking we could go out to dinner after band practice. It's been so long since we went to that Chinese place," Missy suggested.

I knew the place she was talking about. It was this little mom and pop restaurant that we had been routinely going to every month before I had to start watching Andrew, or practicing, or fighting ghosts, or training with my dad and brother.

And it looked like I would be blowing her off again.

This morning, my parents had explicitly told me to come home and help train Andrew after band practice because she and my dad had to go to some fancy dinner, but they didn't want to miss out on Andrew's practice. And Grayson had a scrimmage. As it was, I would already have to cut band practice short.

"Sorry, Miss, I can't," I sighed.

"Why not?" she asked me.

"I've got a family thing," I told her.

She huffed loudly, "Why do you always have a family thing? You hardly spend time with me anymore."

This was the most exasperated I had ever seen Missy get at me. She wasn't angry, she was never angry, but she wasn't happy.

"I have to babysit Andrew!" I exclaimed, hoping she would understand. The second I said it, I realized why that was a poor excuse.

"I can help! Your mom has let me help you babysit him before!" she countered. I froze. She couldn't help, not when we would be training him.

"Well?" she asked, arching an eyebrow, daring me to try and oppose her suggestion. I sighed. I couldn't tell her the truth and I couldn't tell her that all of a sudden, she couldn't help me babysit when she's done it 100 times before.

"I'll ask my mom," I said finally, unsure what else to do.

She simply nodded, picking up her stuff and shoving it into her locker before exiting the locker room.

I picked up my cellphone and called my mom.

"Why are you calling me in the middle of the school day?" was the first thing my mom asked.

"Mom, I have a problem," I sighed.

"What is it, sweetie?" my mom wondered, immediately concerned.

"Well, Missy is feeling bad that I keep blowing her off and I told her I had a family thing tonight, but she didn't believe me and then she wondered why she couldn't help me watch Andy and I didn't know what else to say so I told her I'd talk to you. Can we please not do Andy's training tonight? Please, can I take him to dinner with Missy and me, or can we stay at home or can he stay with Grayson at the scrimmage, please? I just really don't want my best friend to be mad at me!" I rambled. My mom listened before finally sighing on her end of the phone.

"Fine, we won't do his training tonight, but you have to take him to dinner with you and then you and Missy can watch him at home after dinner. That's it. I'll drop him off at Logan's house while you're at band practice," she said.

"Thank you, mom," I breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome, honey," she said, "But you're going to have to be the one who tells your brother that he can't practice tonight and youre going to have to deal with his attitude and make sure that he doesn't say anything to Missy."

"Okay," I said finally. That wouldn't be fun, I knew how Andy could act if he didn't get his way, and, more often than not, he could be a real vindictive pain in my ass.

"Love you," my mom said.

"Love you too," I replied before hanging up the phone.

I rushed out of the locker room, just before coach called roll, sitting next to Missy.

"Okay, you, me, Chinese tonight," I muttered quietly.

I saw her smile out of the corner of my eye.

"Great," she whispered back.

"Only problem is, we have to take Andy with us," I said, "And we can count on him having a bad attitude tonight."

"Why?" she wondered.

"Just trust me. Anyway, is that still okay?" I questioned.

"Yeah, that's fine, I'm just glad we get to hang out," Missy said. Although she wasn't looking at me.

"Fenton!" Coach called loudly.

"Here!" I called back, making sure she didn't mark me absent. The coach simply nodded, and continued to call out the names on her roster.

"So you're not mad at me anymore?" I asked Missy.

Missy finally turned to look at me looked at me and scrunched her eyebrows, probably wondering if I was going to pull the rug out and ditch her again.

"If you're asking for permission to blow me off again, the answer is 'no' but, since we get to hang out tonight, no, I'm not mad at you," she said.

Good. Mission accomplished, crisis averted.

"Sanchez!" Coach called.

"Here!" Missy called in response.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Lizzie POV-

Normally, we would walk to my band practice at Logan's house, which would require me to awkwardly carry my guitar case for four blocks, but, Missy had recently gotten her learner's permit (and a car), so, even though she wasn't supposed to be driving without a parent, we took her car.

When we arrived, I knocked on the front door purely as a courtesy, I was here so often, it really wasn't required anymore, and walked through the house carrying my guitar case with Missy right behind me.

I pushed open the garage door to see that Dani was already there. Unfortunately, she was also sucking face with my drummer.

Apparently, they must be dating again.

"Could you guys get a room please?" I asked, surprising them. It really shouldn't have surprised Dani, she should have heard me come in, but I suppose she was too busy to pay attention.

"We did have a room until you guys came in," Logan pointed out after the two of them had awkwardly broken apart.

"Yeah, but you knew we had band practice today," I reminded him, pointing out his lapse in consideration of their make-out spot.

"…Right," Logan said, although I got the feeling he had just remembered, Dani having previously occupied the small amount of brains he had. Logan may be a great drummer, but he's not the sharpest crayon in the box.

Missy chuckled and took her usual seat on one of the folding card-table chairs in the corner of the garage.

"So is Carter coming?" Logan asked, trying to change the subject.

"He should be. He knows what day band practice is," I replied with a somewhat accusatory edge to my voice.

"Okay, what about your brother?" Logan asked.

"That depends which brother you're talking about," I said. I full well that he was talking about Grayson, because, on occasion Grayson has joined Missy and Dani in the spectator seats while we have practiced.

"Um…Grayson?" Logan clarified.

"No, he can't come, he's got a soccer scrimmage today. Andy, on the other hand will be coming," I told him, adjusting the strings on my guitar.

"Why?" Dani asked, joining the conversation.

"Because I have to babysit him tonight," I told her, looking in Missy's direction. I'm not entirely sure how, but Dani understands my subtle looks almost as much as Grayson, so, she immediately understood.

"So your mom is going to drop him off?" Logan asked.

"Yep, but it probably won't be until halfway through our second set," I assured him. I had a growing feeling that we probably wouldn't get much practice in after Andy showed up, so I was grateful that we would be able to get some practice in without his whining.

"Is he going to be in a bad mood?" Dani guessed.

"Without a doubt," I nodded, "Would you mind…smoothing things over with him." Again I looked over to Missy. Andy, being the spiteful pain in the ass he is, might actually tell Missy the truth just to make me mad, without thinking about the consequences. That's where Dani would come in. Considering she would be sitting over there by Missy and Andy, I would need her to run interference if the conversation was to take a turn for the ghostly.

"On it," she agreed, once again understanding my unspoken message, as she went to go sit in an open card-table chair next to Missy.

"Sorry I'm late," came a quiet voice. Carter.

"That's okay, we were just about to get started," I told him. Without saying another word, he looked down and shuffled over to his designated spot with his bass case.

You wouldn't know it, but Carter can actually sing. Usually, I am the one doing most of the singing, but, on many of the songs, he and Logan do the backup vocals. On one of our songs, Carter actually sings the lead. Of course, he doesn't look at the audience while he is singing the lead (and we have to turn the volume on his mic way up) but he does actually sing well.

We started with the first set.

Now, we (Logan, me, and sometimes even Dani and Missy) have written a lot of our own songs, and Logan was even able to create some CD's from the recordings, but none of them are anywhere near popular, so, in order to actually hold the audience's attention, we have to do a lot of cover songs too.

The first set is about half original songs, and half covers.

Our first song on the set was a crowd pleaser and one of my personal favorites of our covers: _My Life Would Suck without_ _You _by Kelly Clarkson. Most of our songs were older than most of our classmates because most of the music that was popular now was all so auto-tuned that it was hard to play them as a band. This bothered a lot of the popular kids in school who wanted to have a DJ at the dance, but the teachers and parents who chaperoned the dance always approved of our choices of songs.

We didn't have the time to go through every one of our songs so we just kind of played through the first part of the song and then any additional parts if there was a change in the music. We didn't focus too much on my singing, because it was up to me to know the lyrics. The only singing we focused on was their backups and Carter's song. And, so long as no one suggested a new song to add to the set, we could get through all of them relatively quickly.

I heard the doorbell over the sound of our music and I held up a hand, gesturing for them to stop.

A few seconds later, Logan's mom showed Andy into the garage.

"How did she hear that?" Logan whispered under his breath.

"Hey Andy," I grinned at my brother, hoping that if I was nice to him maybe he wouldn't become a little brat.

"Why am I here?" Andy questioned, brattiness already setting in as he crossed his arms.

"Hey, Andy, why don't you come over here with me," Dani interjected, taking his hand and leading him over to another empty chair.

"Thank you," I mouthed to her when I caught her eye.

As I predicted, we didn't get much practice in after that.

"Alright," I sighed after we had tried and failed to start the same song over four times, "I think we're done for today."

Carter and Logan were all too willing to agree with me.

I set my guitar in its case and walked over to Missy and Andy (Dani had already walked away to go kiss Logan again).

"Alright, let's go eat."


End file.
